Category Archives: Festivities

The Studio Audience

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Happy New Year! As I write this, on my desk are two brightly-coloured paper hat, two Hawaiian leis, and two noisemakers that the boys brought home from an early New Year’s Eve party. Picture loud, family-friendly dance music and what appeared to be several thousand – although it was probably only twenty – children all blowing into noisemakers. When we left my husband said that he suddenly had a headache, which, no kidding. But a good time was had by all, and meanwhile, I was asleep by 11:15.

I know we are all supposed to loathe January, with its cold and dark – although, less dark than December – but these first few days of the month, I love. I love the feeling of new beginnings, although September always feels much more like a new beginning to me. January resolutions tend to be continuations of September resolutions, which is okay by me. I have the usual health and fitness resolutions – no specific goals, but a continuation along my path – and also such goals as “read more,” “buy less stuff,” “less social media,” “pay attention,” and “notice the moment.”

One of the reasons that I think many people are anti-resolution is that their resolutions are much too specific or too overwhelming. Small steps add up, people! There’s no need to go cold-turkey on everything you love, but maybe, just maybe, add a few small things that will improve your health and welfare. That’s my take on it, anyway. If there are ways that can make me a better person, why wouldn’t I try them? Resolving to be kinder, more aware, and to give the people I love more of me.

I also have a resolution just to make that damn dentist appointment already. I loathe going to the dentist, I hate that it takes up a whole afternoon, I hate trying to fit it into my schedule, I hate having my teeth scraped while silently staring into that overhead light, and most of all, I hate hearing that I use the “wrong” kind of floss. I FLOSS EVERY DAY AND I WILL NOT USE THE NON-DENTAL-TAPE-FLOSS, YOU CANNOT MAKE ME. I also am trying not to feel overwhelmed with a) my younger son getting braces this month and all the related appointments that go with it, b) parent meetings for my older son’s absolutely insane winter camping trip, c) HIGH SCHOOL PARENT ORIENTATION NIGHT, HOW DID WE GET HERE, LANDSLIDE, d) everything else that happens in a normal month. When can I fit my slightly-overdue dental appointment in? Maybe I should wait until February.

Today is my first day back at work since December 21, and it has been so lovely having this break with my husband and kids. Our house has been so relaxed, we’ve all caught up on sleep, and all those little jobs around the house have gotten done. My husband and older son took down all the outdoor lights and decorations, and our front yard now looks extremely desolate. Between Christmas and Halloween, it’s been a while since we have had an empty yard. Not to mention that in the right season, my garden adds some lovely cheer to the front of the house, but now, thanks to Chinooks melting snow, it’s just a mix of brown grass, dead plants, and dirty snow.

Well, I’m not going to complain. The weather has been very mild for January, so I’d rather have melted, dirty snow than what January usually has in store for us. The kids have been using the trampoline, which really says something. I brought groceries in without wearing gloves, which says more.

Oh, I’ve enjoyed this break so much, I don’t want to let go. Before the break an equally-burned-out friend of mine (HI JAN) said, “I just want to drink coffee and watch a movie” and I totally related to that. My entire goal this break has been to get up and drink coffee in my pajamas for hours, which I have done every day. What a treat! No rush to go anywhere or do anything. It’s a beautiful thing.

Eat your heart out, Jan, we also watched a movie yesterday, Spiderman: Homecoming, which was pretty good and I only fell asleep a couple of times. That’s a big win for me; I think I deal with onscreen action/ conflict by falling asleep. Also, it really challenged my perception of Aunt May; Marisa Tomei looks great, but I really disagree with those pants.

We have also been watching the occasional morning game show, such as Price is Right and Let’s Make a Deal. I tried to explain the Monty Hall statistical problem to the kids but it turns out there are no longer goats involved in the new Let’s Make a Deal, or a second door being opened, so the statistics don’t work anymore. The Price is Right, though. That show hasn’t changed and it’s still as exciting as ever when the little mountain climber comes on or they announce that Plinko is the next game or that the next prize is a NEW CAR. We even saw one guy get $1 on the big wheel and then he went on to win a sweet Showcase Showdown, and we were all screaming with happiness like we were actually in the studio audience. Wouldn’t it be nice to cheer on other people as they just go through life, like we were in a studio audience? Being happy for others as they succeed, sharing in their disappointment with empathy when they do not. Life goal: to be in the studio audience.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “We Need A Little Christmas, Right This Very Minute” Edition

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In the last week, I have seen the following outfits on young girls: a one-shouldered bodysuit paired with jogging pants, the type that are tightly elasticized around the ankles, super high-rise lululemon tights with a hoodie, the bottom hem of which ended two inches below the bra line, Cougar boots, and a very high ponytail, and a white mock-turtleneck tucked into very high-rise navy blue flared cropped pants, the shorter hemline emphasizing the old-school Adidas runners and ruffled white ankle socks. The last outfit was accessorized by a red purse with a gold-chain strap. If there was such a thing as a blog back in 1985-1993, all of those things would have made Nicole’s Favourite Things. As it is, I find it very interesting, like I am a fashion anthropologist analyzing current trends and how they related to my own youth.

But I did not come here to talk about the return of acid-wash jeans or bodysuits. I came here to talk about Christmas! It’s time for Nicole’s Favourite Things – and I have lots of favourite things at this time of year, so hold on to your hats! Your SANTA hats, that is!

Nicole’s Favourite Things – The “We Need A Little Christmas, Right This Very Minute” Edition

THE DRESS

I alluded to the dress I bought – from Le Chateau, no less – for my husband’s Christmas party. It has sprinted past my other favourite dresses to become, I believe, my all-time favourite. It has surpassed my wedding dress, my perfect black wrap dress, and the black-and-white Sixties-style swing dress I had when I was sixteen. It’s a bit hard to tell from the photo – my older son took the pictures and we switched the tree lighting to try to capture it – but it’s a black sheath with a piece of drapey fabric that makes for a swoopy, uneven hemline. Black and drapey, as we know from all my sweaters, is my jam.

I paired the dress with my three-inch wedge heels, which looked nice, but for someone who spends most of the day working in bare feet, it was kind of painful. I paid for it the next day with the tightest hip flexors you ever did see. I used to wear heels all the time, and they never bothered me. But hoo boy, I’m glad I don’t wear them much anymore.

 

Holidays on Ice

I bought this book in 2015 and I have read it every December since then. I love David Sedaris, and his “Santaland Diaries” and “Dinah, the Christmas Whore” still make me laugh until I cry, gasping for air, even after that many readings.

My Yard

It seems that my husband has a very competitive streak. We’ve always had a lot of Christmas decorations in the yard, but as our neighbourhood demographics start to change – read: the old people are, um, leaving and new young families are coming in – we have gone from Appropriately Festive to Griswold-Worthy Light Show. My husband’s goal is to show those young upstarts up and let them know how it’s done, I guess. We have the following: icicle lights paired with red ones, colourful signs in each of my three large planters, an entire candy cane lane along our sidewalk and stairs, two light-up trees and two light-up gift boxes, two light-up deer, one moose, one polar bear, two penguins, one hippo, and two snowmen, including a six-foot tall one that has flashing lights and stars. The Mayday tree is filled with sparkling colourful Christmas balls as well:

People stop to take photos of our yard, and at least three elderly men have stopped me, while walking Barkley, to tell me that they admire my husband’s work. How did they know it was him, and not me?

These Ornaments

My mom dropped off this little cutie-pie for me:

I put it near this one that I bought four years ago. They are little friends!

I buy an ornament every year, and this was the one I bought the first year we were married:

This year’s ornament, in honour of the pandas being in Calgary:

This was last year’s ornament, in honour of the cute little chickadees that hang out in the shrub by my garage and become immensely startled each and every time I come out of the house.

Musical Decorations

I love this little cookie-making machine; it plays music and is, frankly adorable. Note the box set of Seinfeld in the background. Santa brought that for the boys last year and it was some of the best money I have ever spent. Other than my new dress, that is.

This is another musical cutie, the snowman and reindeer bop around with the music. The creche in the background is one I brought back from Mexico back in 1997.

Old Timey Ornaments

This little Santa was one I bought from a craft fair, probably circa 1998. Behind him is a bowl where I keep beautiful smooth stones, seashells, and driftwood I collected from the West Coast, back when my husband and I were first married. My mother-in-law had given me the glass bowl; it was her mother’s, and she thought I might like it. I think it was filled with chocolates at the time. She also gave me those ornaments, they were hers from the Sixties. They are extremely fragile, which makes me appreciate modern unbreakable ornaments.

Soapie and Ed

Last year my husband took the boys to Canadian Tire for various Christmassy-yard things, and came home with this adorably fluffy sheep for me. I laughed with delight and christened her Soapie, as she looked like a big foamy soap bubble. This year the trio went to Canadian Tire – AGAIN for yard items – and presented me with the snowman. “He looks like an Ed” my older son said sarcastically, but it was exactly right. Soapie and Ed sit on the hearth above Barkley’s bed, and Barkley tends to be a bit jealous of Soapie. He usually nudges her over once or twice before resigning to his fate.

Dressing Up The Dog

Speaking of Barkley, I went to buy him some food and treats and lo, there was an entire aisle of things for which to dress up your dog. I chose this scarf, which is really meant for a much smaller dog, as it is fairly fitted on his fluffy neck. I’ve been putting it on him to take our walks, and the pure joy I get from seeing him jauntily walking around like a man about town in his festive scarf is much greater than the $5.99 price tag would indicate.

Those are my favourite things this year. I hope you have a wonderful holiday and that you can enjoy all your favourite things too. Merry Christmas. xo

Festively Limping To The Finish Line

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I won’t ask if you are all ready for Christmas, because I know you already are! a friend (HI GLENN) said to me last week, and it’s true, my gifts were all purchased over a month ago, cards have been sent out weeks ago, everything is wrapped, and yet. This last week, these last few days before a break, may just be my undoing. We are all so exhausted and completely burnt out that it is taking every ounce of energy to rouse myself and the kids out of bed in the morning and just get through the day. We are all counting down the days until vacation, even though it specifically goes against my Enjoy The Moment mantra. If we are always looking ahead to the next thing, we can forget about what’s happening right now. Or, as Ferris Bueller said, Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.

Deep thoughts from teen movies of the Eighties.

What is it about this week? This morning I felt like my sanity was holding on by a thread, and not a sturdy thread either, but one that is completely frayed and shoddy. Yesterday my younger son said that he thought there was no school on Friday. Weeks ago I had checked the school website; since Thursday is “activity day” I thought that might be the case. But on the website, Friday was listed as Last Day of Classes. So, by that logic, I concluded that Friday was indeed the Last Day of Classes and there would be school.

Strangely, the kids kept telling me that over the morning announcements, there were x-1 days of school left, when I felt there should be x days left, based on Friday being the Last Day of Classes. After my son’s claim yesterday though, I looked again at the website. Friday: Last Day of Classes. But oh! When I started to scroll down to confirm the date of my older son’s Environmental and Outdoor Education trip to the mountains, I noticed something. Underneath Friday: Last Day of Classes was Friday: PD Day NO CLASSES.

WHAT.

It seems to me like there could have been a much better way of communicating that information. I looked through all the paper forms in my possession and not one mentioned this fairly salient fact. To be sure, it is not a big deal; if anything, it’s an unexpected bonus since that will allow me to have a much more relaxed morning, but yet it was unsettling.

More unsettling was the realization that the Grade Eight Ski Trip – for which no forms or information has been distributed to parents as of yet – was on the exact same day that my eighth grader was due to go in to get molds made for his upcoming orthodontic work. Under normal circumstances, this would be No Big Deal. I would Figure Things Out. But with everything else going on right now, and a January packed full of one-off appointments, and the fact that I had already rescheduled this particular appointment twice, and this appointment needed to occur 7-10 days before the actual braces are put on actual teeth, and finding an appointment time that both works for my crazy schedule and minimizes the missing of Important, Difficult To Make Up classes is incredibly trying, well, this was the thing that took the thread from Sturdy to Completely Frayed.

I’ll just call before I head into the studio, I thought, with deep ujjayi breaths. I had a few minutes between the time the office opened – 8:00 – and the time I had to leave. No problem! Except that I kept getting the If you are calling to reschedule or book an appointment, please contact us during our regular office hours message. But I AM calling you during regular office hours! This IS your regular office hours, why is no one answering the PHONE?

Well. I got it done, not without the requisite mental anguish. The finish line is indeed in sight. Soon, I will be able to pour giant glugs of Almond Baileys into my coffee and drink it in my pajamas, with nowhere to go and no place to be. Soon.

I don’t want to complain, I really don’t. I do love this time of year; I love the parties and gatherings and getting cards in the mailbox. Speaking of which, last year someone sullenly tweeted that they had received only one Christmas card, and it was a standard-issue from a local business. It turned out that she had sent ZERO cards but was expecting many. Well. That might not be how it works. Perhaps expectations need to be adjusted. And perhaps I need to adjust my own expectations about my own limits and go to bed every night this week at 8:00. That sounds like a very good plan.

Speaking of expectations, I had very low ones yesterday when I drove into the Costco parking lot. Costco, one week before Christmas. I was, to be honest, expecting a complete nightmare and I spent a few minutes in my car just deep breathing. I had just taught a yoga class and I discussed the stressful time of year with my students, using words like “self-care” and “meditative breathing” and I felt like the teacher could be the student, so to speak. The parking lot was strewn with carts, which, as we all know, causes me much grief, and the man in the car across from mine literally shoved his cart into the VERY SAME SNOWBANK from which I had retrieved a cart only two weeks prior, and drove off. DEEP BREATHING, SERENITY NOW.

So I was expecting the literal worst as I went into the store, wondering, not for the first time, if the items on my list really were worth the angst involved. And then…nothing. The produce section was a bit crazy, due to very poor aisle engineering, but the shopping trip was really…fine. All my items were available, some were discounted, all the produce looked great, and then when I went to check out there was NO LINE. I wheeled my giant heavy cart up to the till and immediately unloaded. WHEN HAS THAT EVER HAPPENED, I ASK? Certainly it was not what I was expecting the week before Christmas. Maybe it was all that cart karma during the year. It all paid off.

And speaking of karma, my lovely friend and yoga student Sara (HI SARA) brought me these cookies, along with – get this – chocolate pretzel bark and honestly, this kind and beautiful gesture absolutely turned my whole day around. I went from Being Ready To Cry to having my sanity reinstated. It is no longer hanging by a thread. It is now securely double-stitched together. Never underestimate what kindness will do for someone, especially this time of year. xo

Advent Calendars: Waxy Chocolates, Fanciness, Happiness, and Kindness.

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When you were a kid, what kind of – if any – Advent calendar did you have? We had the kind that you could buy at the grocery store or Sears; each window opened to reveal a small waxy chocolate in the shape of a gift or a tree or – for Christmas Eve and Christmas Eve alone – a star. I shared this calendar with my two brothers, which meant that every three days one of those small waxy chocolates was mine, all mine.

Fast forward to today and my kids get these:

I kind of wish I had bought one for myself, the treats inside are so decadent. Don’t get me wrong, when I was a kid I’m not sure they even had anything other than those grocery store calendars. Now everything is available, calendar-wise, from booze to chocolate to Lego to ornaments. What an age we live in.

Besides the fancy Lindt ones, we also have a little wooden calendar I bought when the kids were small. At that time I would put little treats inside, when they got bigger I copied Lynn and wrote down a fun winter/ Christmas activity for each day. The kids would open it in the morning and see if the activity of the day would be sledding after school, reading Dear Polar Bear or decorating cookies. I still think this is a great idea but eventually I ran out of fresh, fun activities and if there was a lot of snow, every day for a solid week the activity would be “sledding after school” since they were going to do that anyway. I mean, December with young children can be tiring enough without having to be all creative about fun family activities, especially when you are the sole person in charge of said activities.

The last couple of years, as I no longer picked them up after school and so “sledding” was no longer the default, I would instead write down something I noticed that I liked about each boy, and put it behind the appropriate door. This was great until the crush of the season came along and I kept writing down “I liked how you were so helpful today” or something completely generic like that, eventually forgetting and writing down nothing at all. This year, I decided to delegate. Everyone, including my husband and I, writes down one happy thing that happened that day, and puts it in the calendar. At the end of the month, we are going to read them all to see what a great month it was. I think this is the best idea yet, and will be helpful when it comes to setting intentions and resolutions for the New Year. My enthusiasm for these projects tends to wane around December 16 but we are still going strong; it really helps to delegate.

I came across this from my friend Jan (HI JAN) and I think the idea of a kindness calendar is lovely; although I actually do most of these things all the time throughout the year. Well, other than buying a colleague coffee since I rarely go into a coffee shop, preferring instead my daily pot of home-brewed Kirkland Signature. I have also never taped money on vending machines, because rarely do I even notice vending machines. But the rest – yes.

Give someone a hug or compliment? Hold the door open for someone? Thank someone who serves you? Smile at a stranger? These things are all my jam. I’m constantly walking around looking dementedly cheerful, due to my massive case of Bitchy Resting Face, years of waitressing taught me to always be kind and thankful to those in customer service, I compliment random strangers on their hair or clothing (the lady in the gym with the Haute Mess t-shirt – amazing), and I am a walking, talking Hug Monster. I do think it’s important to focus on such things in December in particular though; life gets hectic and stressful and although I am Nicole the Elf, it is good for me to remember that not everyone embraces the season with open arms and screams of SANTA’S COMING, I KNOW HIM. Anyone who has seen the new reboot of The Grinch – if you haven’t, go see it, it is an absolute delight – or anyone with any kind of compassion or empathy knows that this season can be very hard for many, and a little kindness goes a long way.

I was thinking about this a few weeks ago when I was at – you guessed it – Costco. This was at the beginning of the month, and I had just seen that calendar, and I thought, I’m going to CRUSH this kindness thing. First, I rescued a cart from where it was stuck in between a parking stall and a snowbank, and as I sunnily pushed it through the parking lot, I saw a lady shove her cart in between her car and the one beside her, and drive off. I consider it a kindness that I didn’t chase after her, banging on the hood of her car while screaming You are what is wrong with society today. 

Anyway.

Once in the store I smiled only semi-maniacally, even at people completely blocking the aisle while they lined up for their free two-inch cup of popcorn and coffee. Costco was, as it always is, but particularly in December, a minor nightmare. By the time I got to the checkout, the lines were snaking their way around the granola bar and fruit snack displays. I chose a line that seemed decent, until the man in front of me was joined by his wife, who had a full cart IN ADDITION to his full cart. Oh well.

In the line beside me was a young mother, with a cart full of groceries, a little boy who appeared to be about three, and a baby. The baby started to fuss in the line and the mother looked totally panicked, rocking the giant cart back and forth in a gesture that every parent can identify with. I looked at her long line, and I looked at the man in front of me who was almost finished unloading the second cart, and I thought, what difference will five minutes make? I told her she could go in front of me and the sheer gratitude on her face was enough to make me want to let EVERY mother with a baby in front of me in EVERY lineup forever. Thank the nice lady who let us go first! she said to her little boy, who waved at me and said Sank youu. 

I would in no way turn down a Lindt teddy or reindeer, or a mini bottle of booze or a bottle of wine, but this kindness calendar thing is pretty gratifying.

I think we’re going to make it after all

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A few months ago I offered to bring desserts to a Christmas party on December 1; I love making holiday-themed sweet treats and I always, without exception, make more than even my family with two teen boys can possibly eat. Or, should eat. In any case, I happily offered and two days ago I realized with a start that December 1 is next weekend. How did that happen? In my mind it’s still September. Well, kind of. It feels like this fall has flown by and now I am in full-on Christmas treat-making-mode, going through massive amounts of coconut milk, chocolate, and peppermint extract.

Yesterday I made two different kinds of fudge to have in the freezer; I decided to make a white chocolate fudge with dried cherries and almond slices, and I followed the base recipe from Kraft Canada, thinking that it couldn’t go wrong. Well. I guess I can’t really blame Kraft because I DID alter the recipe slightly – instead of using condensed milk I used full-fat coconut milk which, in my defense, has worked as a substitute every single time before. Even as I was making it I thought it didn’t seem quite right, it seemed too thin and liquidy. After a full 18 hours in the freezer, it was still soft and certainly not set in the least, which begs the question: why? I mean, if I put coconut milk in the freezer it would be solid. If I put white chocolate in the freezer, it would also be solid. WHY DO THE TWO TOGETHER NOT WORK?

That is how I found myself scraping the strange soft, and cold, mixture into a saucepan at 7:00 this morning, adding white chocolate like there was no tomorrow, based on the theory that more solid matter could only make it more solid. It’s science, bitches. My kids watched with interest; the younger one was particularly invested in the process and kept suggesting other things we could try. I find myself, this morning, obsessively checking on it, as if the state of the fudge is much more important than it actually is. Maybe I’m projecting my emotional state on the fudge? Maybe I’m compensating for something in my life? I don’t know. As it stands it seems to be firming up, but will I be able to cut it into squares, and if not what do I do? Who knows. I am full of regret. Why would I substitute when I’ve never made this before? White chocolate isn’t even vegan so I can’t say I was trying to make a dairy-free version. I was just being too lazy to buy condensed milk, I guess, like I haven’t spent two full afternoons this week grocery shopping. I most certainly could have picked up a can.

Yesterday when I was in the checkout line at Superstore, the cashier handed me the little “this till closed, please use next register” sign to put behind my groceries. I love when that happens! It felt like payback for the week before when I made a decision between two lines and chose the one that had only two men, both with maybe a dozen items each. This will be fast, I thought happily, as I was in a hurry. If this was a movie, albeit a very boring movie, some very dramatic music would start playing, foreshadowing disaster. Grocery store disaster. The first gentleman kept trying to pay with cards that didn’t work, which took several minutes and a special customer service supervisor to resolve. The second gentleman seemed fine, until he pulled out his giant Samsung and started price-matching everything. EVERY SINGLE ITEM. I know it’s their policy to price match but MY GOD PEOPLE. Things got a little tense when it appeared he could NOT price-match his already-discounted meat because it was the wrong kind of meat and by this time I started spiralling into despair, as I watched five – FIVE – people go through the other lineup, the lineup I could have been in if I hadn’t smugly assumed that two men with small amounts of groceries would not actually take twenty minutes. An older lady behind me had started unloading her groceries, and when it appeared we weren’t going anywhere anytime soon – customer service again had to be called with regards to the discount meat – she said to me in a heavy Eastern European accent, What have I done to deserve this? What indeed. I considered asking her if she was the type to leave her cart in the parking lot at Costco, but refrained. After all we were both in this together, I with my good cart karma, and also it was Superstore, not Costco.

I just checked on the fudge again. I think it might be okay. We might be okay, everyone. xo

Hello November!

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Yesterday a friend asked me how much Halloween candy I had eaten while waiting at home for Trick or Treaters, and I will tell you this: zero. My secret? I buy the candy that I don’t like, which is for me a giant box with a mixture of those little Kit Kats, Coffee Crisps, Smarties, and Aero bars. The new young couple down the street – who reminds me of my husband and I many years ago – came by with their two little ones. This is their first Halloween in the neighbourhood, and the woman told me enthusiastically she had bought 100 little bags of chips and hoped that would be enough. I was loathe to tell her that we have never had more than 20 Trick or Treaters, and that she would be munching on chips for some time to come. See, that is a mistake I would never have made – it’s not that I don’t buy hundreds of tiny chocolate bars, it’s that I would never buy that many potato chips, for the simple reason that I cannot resist them. For me, salty beats sweet any day.

Next year I think I’ll buy full size chocolate bars, because I want to feel like one of those fancy ladies; a princess distributing largesse to the populace, as it were.

Thursday after classes I took the Halloween decorations down, with the help of the boys. Normally this is something I would leave to my husband but a) it’s completely dark by the time he gets home and b) today is supposed to be a “rain/snow mix” which would be a bit disastrous for our animatronic thingamagigs. Electric shorting out might add to the creepiness though:

The kids went Trick or Treating with all their friends; I was very happy to see them come back candy-laden and happy, with no one commenting on their giant statures. Does it seem to you that EVERYTHING is a divisive topic nowadays? You name it, everyone has a STRONG and IMMOVABLE opinion on it. Teens trick or treating is definitely one of them. I am of the camp that would give candy out to literally anyone who comes to my door; they could be in university – hell, they could be senior citizens and they would still get a handful of Kit Kats from me. As for my own kids, they can Trick or Treat for as long as they want as far as I’m concerned.

So here we are in November, and I for one am happy about it. Our house was hit by an absolutely deplorable virus, and I seemed to have gotten the worst of it. I recovered enough to be on my feet but the residual exhaustion has been something else. It’s been a week of just setting one foot in front of the other, and occasionally bursting into overwhelmed, exhausted tears. Today I’m finally starting to feel like myself again; I spent some days last week wondering how on earth I usually had the energy to do my normal day-to-day things. Here’s how poorly I felt: I haven’t had a sip of wine in two weeks. Dark times, people.

This morning, after napping all yesterday afternoon and sleeping ten hours last night, I felt well enough to return to my usual Saturday morning spin class. You know how they say the first time back is the hardest? I certainly hope that’s true. All during the class I kept looking down at the little orange warning on my bike: Over exercise can result in serious injury or death. Death! It seemed like a terrible portent. Usually I am filled with all sorts of personal-best goals during the class; this morning my aim was to just make it through without death. If I have a choice in the matter, I would rather not Meet the Maker while wearing sweaty padded leggings.

Fortunately, I am still here to tell the tale.

The kids are in that teenage phase where every morning, they seem taller than the day before. This has resulted in them completely outgrowing their single beds; my older son in particular is several inches longer than his bed, which has led to some uncomfortable nights. We decided to buy them both extra-long-full-size beds, which is more complicated than you might think, given we live in a 1960s bungalow. There has been much jenga-like moving of beds, and there were twenty-four hours when the new beds were delivered into the front entry, in which the entire entryway and front door were completely blocked off. The chaos of this has not added positively to my mental and emotional state this week, but the final result is extremely satisfactory. At one point I looked at all the wrappings and cardboard and craziness and repeated to myself the only way out is through over and over. Happily, after much rearranging and quite a bit of purging, things are looking up! The only problem is that I lay down on one of the beds and damn, it is way more comfortable than my own bed. The only thing keeping me from surreptitiously bed shopping is the thought of going through all this chaos again so soon. Maybe I’ll feel well enough for a glass of wine tonight, to give me some courage. Let’s hope!

Hashtag: No Filter

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On the weekend the guys put up some – but, thankfully, not all – of our outdoor Halloween decorations, mainly the smaller items that hang from our eaves and our big Mayday tree: bats, spiders, corpses, and the like. Cheerful things, you know. Remember the giant snowfall from a few weeks ago? The arborist we had hired was supposed to work on our large trees, but because of the snowy circumstances his team was running a few weeks behind. Yesterday they came to prune the trees and naturally had to move our spooky decor out of the way. I’m not sure I love what they did with the skeleton who was attached to the Mayday:

I think I would have preferred having Mr. Bones facing away from the window. As it is, I feel watched.

Speaking of which, the other day I was walking Barkley and it occurred to me – not for the first time – that I am exceedingly grateful for many things, but particularly that I am not a celebrity. It’s not that I dislike the spotlight – quite the contrary – nor is it that I would turn down the material rewards that often accompany celebrity status. Sidebar: did you know that Sofia Vergara is the highest paid TV actress at $42.5 million? I would not turn that down. When discussing the big lottery that happened last week with friends, I realized that they are all much, much better people than I am, judging from their I would establish affordable housing/ a recovery centres/ free daycare for teen moms wish list. Is it bad that my first thought was that I’d move away from Planet Hoth and buy a tiara? Yes, of course I would do much good with that money too, there are many causes dear to my heart. But first on the list: a tropical home and a tiara.

Back to the original point: I am glad that Girl in a Boy House has not attained celebrity status for the simple reason that I would not want to be followed by paparazzi. Sure, it would be fine if they were following me to, say, yoga class, or even on one of my many trips to the grocery store, although if I was a celebrity I would likely have a grocery store person. I would not, most emphatically, want to be followed on my dog walks, because I am a complete idiot when I speak to my dog. He has a disgusting tendency to eat discarded tissues from the sidewalk. I know! He’s been doing it since he was a puppy and realized that discarded tissues were the one thing that I wouldn’t remove from his mouth on our walks. Discarded. Tissues. First of all, WHO are these people who use a tissue and then THROW IT ON THE SIDEWALK? You people are appalling! Put the used tissue in your pocket like a normal person and then throw it in a garbage can when possible! And while I’m on the topic, people who buy chicken wings from 7-11 and then throw the bones on the ground for every Spot, Rover, and Barkley to pick up are also the worst. Listen, I realize that you must be very drunk to be walking around the neighbourhood eating chicken wings from 7-11, but won’t someone think of the doggies?

Anyway, the other day I was walking with Barkley and every time I noticed a tissue I said sternly, “LEAVE IT” and when he did, I praised him like there was no tomorrow. Who’s a good boy! You’re a good boy! Yes you are! Yes you are! Who’s a good doggy? Barkley’s a good doggy! Yes he is! As I was speaking like this for the fifth or sixth time on the walk, I realized that there was someone walking behind me. They passed me with a sideways glance and I felt, not for the first time, that conversations between myself and the dog, one-sided though they might be, would be terrible if recorded for the public.

It’s a good thing I’m not a reality star.

The excessive praise thing does seem to be working, although we came across a dead magpie on the sidewalk, a really gross crushed corpse of a bird, and I immediately screamed “LEAVE IT!” to which Barkley responded by quickly snatching a nearby tissue and eating it. I was too deflated to scold him.

Paparazzi recording conversations would be one thing, but another would be the unflattering candid photos. We are used to seeing our celebrities photoshopped and filtered within an inch of their lives, which is also what things look like on Instagram. Then, when a candid photo shows up – or when we see someone in person – we are all shocked. What stars look like with no makeup! How So-and-So has let herself go! Best and worst beach bodies! I was speaking with a friend about this today (HI JAN) about how we might compare our own faces to those of our counterparts, and how THEIR Instagrammed youthful glow and smooth skin might make us wonder where we went wrong in our skin-care regimes. I have said it before and I will say it again: I am emphatically anti-filter. The more we look at filtered photos, the more we get a distorted view of what people actually look like.

I swear, Instagram filters are the social media equivalent of a facelift, except that when you see people in real life, they don’t look like their photos. Let’s all agree to just embrace our faces the way they are, wrinkles, uneven skin tone, and all. By all means, use good lighting and makeup and what have you for your photos, if that’s your jam, but filters that make you look twenty years younger than your counterparts are just…depressing. For the good of society, let’s stop with the filters!

Social media is where we get the idea that everyone is living this perfect life, except for ourselves. We see cute pictures of dogs, without the background information that the dogs are eating tissues off the street. We see good hair days:

But we don’t see what happens before the good hair days:

(does anyone else blow-dry their hair upside-down for extra volume?)

We see smiling faces and perfected makeup:

But we don’t see the hot messes we are first thing in the morning.

Those two photos were taken in the exact same spot, two hours apart.

To you I say, you are beautiful just the way you are. No need for filters.